Roslyn: Part One
by mecherry
Summary: Isabelle Mouri has come to England, but from where, and why exactly? Her only concern is the safety of her sister; the only thing she's ever loved. But she will become part of events bigger than she can possibly imagine, and this is only the beginning. Year One. Eventual Pairing will not be revealed.
1. The Move

_a/n~ _Hello, all! So, this is one of my numerous attempts to get my OC story out of my head and onto this website. I feel like I've finally got the final ideas hashed in my head and come to peace with my plot ;) So, I am not a fan of reading Mary Sue type characters that are perfect at everything so this is my attempt to make a readable and bearable OC and although she will never be a J.K. Rowling character, I hope she suits you all well.

Important: I know the story is under the Harry/OC category, but I have NOT decided on Harry as the end pairing. That way you all have something or someone to root for or fight against as things progress ;)

But you all should probably have some patience since this will start in Book One, although I will also work very hard to make a different plot line so that you aren't reading the first book exactly with just some new character dialogue in there (I've seen those).

Please keep any criticism constructive and positive, in the aim of helping my writing :)

My quotes at chapter/story beginnings have nothing to do with the chapter or story; they just tickle my fancy.

Please keep an open mind to new societies, creatures, and places introduced. After all, isn't that the fun of Fanfiction? (without altering the original too much, that is) ;)

Finally, anything you recognize belongs to either J.K. Rowling, the television show Lost, or the wonderful Mr. Aldous Huxley. I am not making money off of this, and if you don't read this part and complain about seeing things from these things later, I will just refer you back here, cause I'm not writing this every chapter.

And so, after this atrociously long Author's Note, as a final reminder, please please review! :)

* * *

_There was a boy...a very strange, enchanting boy. They say he wandered very far, very far, over land and sea. A little shy and sad of eye, but very wise was he._

_And then one day, one magic day, he passed my way. And while we spoke of many things...fools and kings...this he said to me:_

_The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love...and be loved in return_

_-Moulin Rouge_

* * *

Chapter One  
_The Move_

* * *

_Voices disturbed her sleep._

_She was a heavy sleeper, so it wasn't common for her to wake up to things such as Tate on the phone. But she quickly realized that he wasn't on the phone after all. There was another voice in the house. She glanced at the little clock on her bedside table, over the head of her sleeping sister. It read 2 AM._

_Carefully listening, she found that it was a female voice, and that she and Tate seemed to be arguing heatedly. But she couldn't hear what they were saying._

_Her slight shifting caused Roslyn, her sister, to turn over and mumble a little in her sleep. She smiled affectionately at her and kissed her on the head before maneuvering her way out of bed so as not to wake her up._

_The room that the girls shared was small, so it didn't take her long to creep across it quietly, the carpet muffling any sound her bare feet might make._

_Quietly, she opened the door a crack to listen._

_"-can't just come into their life and expect to take them away, just like that! What are you thinking?" Tate was saying angrily._

_"I already told you, I know there's no chance I will be able to take Roslyn, since she's yours, too," the woman's voice was saying, sounding annoyed. "But Isabelle isn't your daughter, Tate, and you have no right to keep custody of her."_

_"So whisk her away? Are you even thinking of what's best for her?" Tate's voice was fierce. "You didn't think of anyone earlier when you took off."_

_Her heart was thudding rapidly against her ribcage, so much that she thought they might hear. It sounded like she knew who the visitor was and what they wanted. But it wasn't possible. It was preposterous._

_"And like I already told you with that too, I made a mistake. I made lots of mistakes, but don't act like you are thinking of her well-being keeping her cooped up on this island."_

_Her voice was full of malice._

_"Pala is the safest and happiest place on Earth," Tate replied, and it sounded like he was forcing his voice to stay calm. "And no one is cooped up here. Anyone can leave at any time."_

_"Precisely," said the woman. "Just like I did. And just like I'll be taking at least one of my daughters." She certainly sounded determined._

_Panic bubbled up inside of her. Was this a dream? If this conversation was real, if she wasn't imagining what the voices were saying, this was not a good situation. She heard Tate sigh, and it frustrated her. Fight! She thought. Argue back!_

_But his sigh, as it turns out, was based on something else._

_"The door is open a bit," he said quietly. Then he raised his voice. "Come on, Isabelle. Come on out."_

_Shame and fear and panic rolled through her in waves so powerful that she felt a little bit nauseous. Slowly, she opened the door and for a moment, the light from the cramped living room was too bright to see much. Shielding her eyes, she stumbled forward._

_Her eyes adjusted to the sudden light fairly quickly. There, standing in the living room looking flustered, was Tate. His eyes were trained upon her with so much sadness and helplessness. That frightened her the most._

_And then she slid her gaze unwillingly to the woman in the room, and on first sight she knew it was not arguable. Roslyn looked mostly like Tate. But Isabelle…she knew exactly who this was just by looking at her. Because there was no mistaking the similarities. The woman was beautiful, Spanish, and looked exactly like her._

_Tate's voice was toneless. "Isabelle," he said slowly. "This is your mother."_

That horrible night came back to Isabelle as she sat in the car, on the way to Kings Cross Station, in a brooding silence. For the fortieth time since then, she wished she was already sixteen.

Her mother had been right. There was nothing that Tate or the Palanese government could do. She was too young to speak for herself, and her birth mother had custodial rights. Unless, of course, her birth father were to show up, but he was nowhere to be found either. And she refused to ask her mother about him because she refused to speak to her unless absolutely necessary. It would feel like losing if she gave in to communication.

Her mother had taken her from her home the very next day, but not after she and Tate had put up a good fight. Her mother had promised Isabelle that she would be a better mother from now on, that she wanted to make things right.

To which Isabelle had replied, "Too late."

Apparently, Isabelle's mother had moved to England some time ago from her home country of Spain. She had informed Isabelle (she had talked incessantly the past few days, and while Isabelle didn't talk she certainly did listen for valuable information) that she had highly regretted leaving her and Roslyn as children. When she made the decision to come take custody of her daughters it had scared her, but she said she knew it was the right choice.

Isabelle never knew why her mother had left them, or why she had even been on Pala in the first place. All she knew was that she had lived there for some time, where she had met Isabelle's dad, and sometime later, Tate. Isabelle also knew that her mother had become highly unhappy in Pala and one day had left and never came back.

Isabelle had always hated her for leaving, but she hated her even more now that she had come back and interrupted everything. She had taken her away from Tate, who had raised her like his own even though he was a Healer and a busy man. And she had taken her away from Roslyn, the only person on this earth she ever loved. And of course, she had taken her away from her home.

She supposed the only good part about all of this was that she got to go away to school for most of the year and did not have to see her mother very much. She had only spent two days in a house with her before she was now leaving.

Her mother had registered her as living in England before she picked her up, planning for the school year, knowing that Isabelle turned eleven. Isabelle was accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, her mother had excitedly explained to her, after she had met with the Headmaster.

In some strange attempt to get on her good side, her mother had shown her the letter when they had arrived. She had pointed out a trunk with school supplies, a wand, and even a pet cat. She had smiled at Isabelle hopefully, but Isabelle had only said coldly, "We don't encourage wand lore in Pala."

It was true. Pala's powers were in perhaps subtler forms of magic, though they all could, when given a wand, use them like every other witch or wizard. They just chose not to, and their country was great for it. Not great in the way other countries want to be great; not big and strong and powerful. But in other ways.

But she didn't protest any further about going to school, because it would get her away, although she did wonder why her mother had picked this particular school. In fact, she was so curious, she actually asked.

"So what's so special about Hogwarts?" she asked grudgingly, from the back seat.

Her mother's eyes slid to the rear view mirror, shocked that Isabelle had started a conversation on her own. "Your father went there," was all she said, quietly.

Questions exploded in Isabelle's head like fireworks, but her pride kept her quiet. Maybe she could find out on her own when she arrived. She was also tempted to ask scathingly why her mother was driving a car rather than doing something magical with her wand, but again, she said nothing.

The car ride was mostly silent, apart from a few more attempts from her mother to begin conversation, which Isabelle blatantly ignored. Instead she stroked her cat between the ears and as it purred, she tried to think of a name.

It took her almost the rest of the way there, but she decided finally on Chester. She would never mention it to her mother, but she rather liked him.

The car stopped and Isabelle peered out the window.

Never before had she seen such hustle and bustle. They were in a parking lot outside the train station, and there were cars everywhere. And the noise! It was incredible. Everyone's faces that she saw looked hurried, most of them walking towards the entrance, carrying bags or pulling suitcases.

Her mother had already gotten out of the car, put some change in a machine nearby, and was opening the trunk and pulling out Isabelle's things. Isabelle took Chester and whispered, "Ready?" She scratched him between the ears one more time and put him in his cage before piling out of the car.

Her mother had a push cart that she had put Isabelle's trunk on. "Here," she said. "We can put his cage on the top here if you don't want to carry him."

Isabelle handed him over, her mother set him down, and together they walked towards the main entrance of the building. It was quarter until eleven in the morning. Fifteen minutes until her train departed.

They walked about halfway through the station before her mother suddenly stopped, fumbling in her pockets. She pulled out a piece of paper and gave it to her. "Here's your ticket," she explained. "Platform 9 and ¾. They had to make it so Muggles couldn't find it, of course. So we have to do something a little special."

Isabelle was strongly tempted to tell her that she was eleven and not five, because that's the voice her mother was using. It wasn't Isabelle's fault, after all, that her mother talked younger to her because she had missed her childhood.

Instead, she just took the ticket and waited.

Her mother gestured at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. "You have to run through that."

Isabelle blinked. "I have to do what now?" she snapped.

Her mother smiled a little. "I know it looks solid, but it isn't. Not for us. I'll go first, all right?"

Isabelle just nodded. Worst case scenario, her mother would make it through and she would have to try it. Best case scenario, her mother would hit the barrier and she would get a good laugh.

Her mother lined up the cart and looked at the barrier for a moment. Then, pushing the cart with her, she began to run. She was almost there…she would surely crash any moment…but she didn't. It seemed like Isabelle blinked, and her mother was gone.

Everyone else bustling through the station hadn't noticed a thing.

She figured her mother had run for a reason, and Isabelle just wanted to get it over with at this point. So she faced the barrier, and sprinted at it. No matter what she had just seen, she couldn't fight the reaction that something very solid was coming up in front of her, and that she was too close now, it was too late…

Isabelle kept running. She was through.


	2. The Journey

**Author's Note: **Just wanted to shout out to my two reviewers of last chapter: **LunaNotLoony** and an unregistered **Guest**. I love hearing your comments and so appreciate you, totally made my days seeing those:) On to the next chapter, people!

* * *

_I was always an unusual girl. My mother told me I had a chameleon soul. No moral compass pointing due North. No fixed personality. Just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and wavering as the ocean.  
-Unknown_

* * *

Chapter Two

The Journey

A rush of exhilaration rushed through her the instant she had made it, and that was before she even opened her eyes.

When Isabelle finally did open them, a whole new excitement went through her all over again. Half of her had thought that all of this wouldn't be real. Of course, she hadn't asked many questions about the school because of her silent treatment to her mother, but her mother had talked about it anyway without Isabelle's prompting and it did sound amazing.

And here she was, surrounded by magical people of a completely different culture.

There was so much flurrying activity to see. She wasn't just exploring the jungles anymore; now, there was so much to observe. Almost too much.

She spotted a black-haired boy lugging his trunk onto the train by himself. Two red-headed boys were waving goodbye to their group of friends right in front of her, and a boy in the group with dreadlocks was closing a box they had all been peering into. There were owls everywhere, screeching and flapping their wings.

The train itself was scarlet, and it read "Hogwarts Express" across the top in large, swirling golden letters.

Her mother, too, was looking at the train, her eyes distant for some reason. Then she turned back around to Isabelle, her hand still lingering on the cart with the trunk. "Come on, let's go closer."

Isabelle followed her until they were right next to the train. A very loud red-headed family was right behind her, and it was tempting to listen to them instead, but her mother was talking. "...So let's get this in a compartment, shall we?"

"Okay," she agreed, only because she didn't want to lug her trunk inside by herself.

Together, they were able to carry her trunk inside and to the aisle way. The compartments all seemed to have people in them. The one directly next to them only had one girl in it, a dark-haired girl who was hastily scribbling a letter. Isabelle wondered who in the world she could be writing to already.

Her mother glanced at her, and Isabelle nodded, although reluctantly. She would much rather have preferred a compartment by herself.

Isabelle slid the door open. "Hello…um…do you mind if I put this up here?"

The girl stopped writing and looked up. Her eyes were a beautiful shade of light blue that contrasted wonderfully with her black hair. "Of course not," she said. "Feel free to sit as well."

Isabelle gave her a guarded smile. "Thanks."

She and her mother were able to load the trunk up above their heads, and Isabelle put Chester's cage down on the seat across from the girl. "Be right back," she informed her, and the girl smiled at her and then resumed her writing.

Once back on the platform, Isabelle glanced at the clock. Five minutes.

Her mother turned to her, somewhat awkwardly, and Isabelle mentally braced herself. Sighing, her mother said, "I know you want to hate me for all of this Isi-"

"No one ever calls me Isi," she interrupted immediately, coldly.

"Right," her mother answered, flustered. "Right, Tate mentioned…yes, Bell is your preferred nickname, right?"

Isabelle just shrugged, but her mother continued, seemingly undisturbed by her daughter's lack of conversation. "Look, the point is, I know you'll come to love this place and that you'll be happy here. They will be wonderful years for you."

She leaned forward and Isabelle stiffened automatically, not even on purpose, and allowed her mother to hug her. And then her mother looked at her and said, "Write me at some point, okay? Even if you may not want to, it would be nice…" She trailed off, sighing. "I love you, Isabelle. And I hope you have a wonderful year."

Isabelle nodded stiffly. "See you, Diane."

In the silence, a voice drifted through the air from the large red-headed family behind them. "Oh, Mom, can I go and see him, please…."

Isabelle focused back on her mother.

Her mother's face had fallen ever so slightly, but she had also seemed to expect the lukewarm goodbye. Isabelle clambered onto the train, looked back, and waved. Her mother was smiling and waving at her, and then she was walking away.

All Isabelle felt at their parting was relief.

She walked the little way down the aisle way back to the compartment with her trunk. The girl that had occupied it was now done with her letter – she was currently staring out the window. Isabelle decided to verbally re-announce her presence as she came in to sit down.

"Hello," she said carefully, settling in to the seat across from the girl.

The girl's eyes slid across to Isabelle. "Hello," she said brightly. "What's your name?"

"I'm Isabelle," she answered. "And you?"

"Atasca Stratouri," she answered. "If you don't mind me asking, you aren't from here either, are you?"

She had said "either", and that's what had made Isabelle notice it. She spoke with a different accent in English as well, but only very slightly. Hardly noticeable. "Erm…no," Isabelle answered. "Where are you from?."

Much to her relief, Atasca did not question her change of subject any farther. She only said, "I'm from Greece, but I've lived in England since I was about six or something. So, are you a first year as well?"

She certainly was friendly, if not a bit impertinent. But Isabelle liked that, because she was only asking questions to keep up conversation, not to be snoopy. If she was asking things to find out gossip, she already would have asked when Isabelle had moved and why. All of this also meant that Isabelle could answer very minimally and still keep up the conversation.

"Yes," Isabelle replied.

"Me too," said Atasca eagerly. "And am I excited! I've heard so much about this place!"

"I haven't, much," Isabelle said curiously. "Like what?"

Before Atasca could answer, the compartment door slid open. They both looked around to see a round-faced boy clutching a toad in his slightly chubby fingers. "May I join you?" he asked politely, and slightly nervously, Isabelle noticed, as he took in the beauty that was Atasca.

Isabelle and Atasca both nodded and Atasca gestured to the seat next to her with a big grin. "Absolutely!"

The boy settled in and smiled shyly at them. "I'm Neville Longbottom," he introduced himself. He held up the toad slightly. "And Trevor." He set the toad down on the seat, something Isabelle wasn't sure was entirely sanitary, but it was just a toad, after all.

"Hi Neville," Atasca answered. "I'm Atasca Stratouri and this is Isabelle. We were just talking about what to expect at Hogwarts. We're both first years. Are you?"

"Yes," Neville replied. "All my family has gone to Hogwarts, though, or at least I think mostly all of them. I've heard a lot about it." His round face was shining with a growing excitement as well.

"What happens when we get there?" asked Isabelle curiously.

"Well, first is the Sorting. They put you into one of the Houses, you know," Atasca answered knowingly, even though Isabelle got the feeling that she didn't know quite as much as Neville. Her excitement was contagious, though. Despite herself, Isabelle's heart had begun to speed up in anticipation of everything tonight.

"Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Gryffindor," Neville ticked off on his fingers.

"I heard Gryffindor is the best," a bossy voice said from the aisle. They all looked over to where they had not shut the compartment door behind Neville. It was a girl with very bushy brown hair and large front teeth. "Dumbledore himself was in it."

Isabelle wanted to ask what the Houses did and who Dumbledore was, but not in front of this new arrival. Her voice screamed that she wanted to know everything and when others didn't have answers, she made them feel stupid. Without asking, she settled into the seat next to Isabelle. "Hello," she said, holding out her hand and shaking each one in turn. "I'm Hermione Granger. What're your names?"

The girl's intrusion and bossiness did not seem to bother Atasca. Isabelle was starting to wonder if anything bothered her. "I'm Atasca Stratouri," she chirped with a still wide smile.

"Neville Longbottom," Neville told her.

"I'm Isabelle," Isabelle said. She knew full well her last name now had to be her mother's to live here, which is why she always purposefully left it out. Hermione's eyes flicked to her wrist as they shook, and her face slackened in shock. Then she pointed at Isabelle with a slightly shaking hand.

"You're, but…that's the….lotus flower," she said suddenly, excitedly, as if unable to believe it.

Isabelle was uncomfortable. "Yeah," she answered quietly.

"But _goodness_," Hermione exclaimed, startled. "What are you doing out _here_?"

"My mother lives here." Her voice had become cold. The others were watching the entire exchange very curiously, but even Atasca seemed to notice that Isabelle's voice had changed considerably, because even she didn't dare to ask another question. Isabelle did not want to talk about why she moved here. She made a mental note to wear a bracelet more often to avoid the homeland conversation, because that would inevitably lead to questions about why she was here.

"So, I um, heard some very interesting news about this year," Atasca said, her voice become hushed all of the sudden, her excited quality returning.

"What?" Neville asked.

"Harry Potter is a first year!" she exclaimed. "I heard Harry Potter should be coming to Hogwarts this year."

Isabelle had heard that name before, she knew it. She had read it somewhere.

Neville's eyes were wide, but Hermione Granger seemed to know this information already, and she made sure everybody knew it. "Yes, I read that. Well, I guessed it, I suppose. Since it was ten years ago this year and everything and he was one year old at the time..."

And Isabelle now remembered. He had been in a history book they had read in primary school. There had been a time in England, she remembered, that had been very dark. They learned about it in their schools, the wizards that rose to power because of wand lore and power lust. And Voldemort, the most recent, had fallen, as Hermione Granger had said, apparently ten years ago today. Isabelle had never much liked their history lessons, but she had a slight remembrance of the name because she remembered that the circumstances had been particularly peculiar. Harry Potter, a baby, had survived one of those curses they use to kill each other with those wands.

And apparently, the curse is unblock able. So this Harry Potter could possibly be very powerful, and no doubt was extremely famous here. Of course there would be talk of him joining school with them. Isabelle wondered if he was also someone possibly dangerous.

Relieved that she had figured it out on her own without asking, Isabelle rejoined the conversation.

They were already on the subject of classes, or at least, Hermione was talking about classes at top speed. Neville was looking worried at all these subjects he had to take, and Isabelle was sharing his feeling. Instead of listening more, she looked out the window.

She wondered what Roslyn was doing right now. She would have to write her as soon as she could, to let her know she was thinking of her. Her past few days had been too busy, and when she had had a few free moments from her mother, she was always too irritated and moody.

And of course, she had wanted to write her sister and Tate with good news, and she hoped that arriving at Hogwarts would give her that.

"Ah, no!" Isabelle heard someone exclaim, and snapped out of her reverie. Neville Longbottom had spoken, and he was on his knees peering around on the floor. "I've lost Trevor! And the compartment door was open!"

"We'll find him," said Hermione in a commanding voice, nodding around at all of us assuredly.

Atasca and Isabelle both nodded with her, and Neville's round face shone with relief. "Okay," he answered her, looking grateful.

Atasca and Neville went in one direction of the train, while Hermione and Isabelle went the other. Both pairs walked the entire car aisle way, but Trevor did not turn up. "We'll check this way," Hermione said, pulling Isabelle the way Atasca and Neville had come, as she apparently did not think they could look as well as her.

"We'll double check your way, too," Atasca answered kindly.

Isabelle followed Hermione through the aisle way, where Hermione was now asking the compartments if they had seen Neville's toad. Isabelle hovered slightly behind her and didn't speak as everyone shook their heads no, looking a bit bemused.

Hermione slid open a door and as usual, Isabelle stood right over her shoulder without saying anything. The redheaded boy inside was already holding up a wand over a rat as a black-haired boy looked on. The redheaded boy paused with his mouth open.

"Has anyone seen a toad? It's just that Neville's lost one," Hermione said, her voice bossy as ever. But her eyes were trained upon the wand.

"We already told him we haven't seen it," said the redhead boy, a little bit snappily.

"Are you doing magic?" Hermione asked, ignoring his answer, sounding eager. "Let's see it, then."

The redheaded boy looked shocked at her demand, but nevertheless rolled up his sleeves. "Erm – all right," he replied, and cleared his throat. He said:

_Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow_  
_Turn this stupid fat rat yellow!_

He waved his wand in a fancy twirling motion, but nothing happened, no sound or light or anything. The rat remained the same color and continued his sleeping on the boy's lap. Isabelle prepared herself for Hermione's explanation, which she was sure was soon to come. She was not wrong.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" she asked condescendingly. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few spells just for practice, but they've all worked for me. No one in my family is magical, I was ever so surprised when I got my letter, and Hogwarts is supposed to be the best school of Witchcraft and Wizardry there is! I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, and who are you?"

She seemed to have a trend of walking into compartments and introducing herself, because she had done the exact same thing to Atasca, Neville, and Isabelle. Isabelle fought back a laugh at the two boys' dumbstruck faces. She decided she should probably introduce herself to break the silence.

"And I'm, erm, Isabelle," she said quietly.

Both of their eyes slid to her and hung there for a moment, as if not having noticed her before but now were more interested as to who she was. It was the redhead boy who spoke first.

"I'm Ron Weasley," mumbled Ron, clearly still a bit embarrassed about his lack of magical skills, or at least having them called out from Hermione Granger.

"Harry Potter," said the dark-haired boy, and Isabelle felt rather than saw Hermione fix her eyes on him, just as she was herself. So this was the famous Harry Potter. Isabelle didn't think he seemed dangerous at all. In fact, he didn't even look powerful. His clothes were too baggy and his glasses had tape in the middle as if they had been broken too many times. He was rather skinny, as well.

"Are you really?" Hermione said, a bit tactlessly. "Goodness, I've read all about you! You're in The History of Modern Magic and The Encyclopedia of Great Sorcerers in the Twentieth Century."

"Am I?" Harry asked, looking a bit queasy.

"Don't you know? Goodness, if it were me I would have found out everything already! Do you two know which Houses you will be in?" She looked around at them, eager to find out as much as possible about the first years, it seemed. "I've heard Gryffindor is the best, that Dumbledore was in it, but Ravenclaw also wouldn't be bad…well, we should probably get back to searching for Neville's toad."

She nodded at them quickly and turned around. Isabelle waved a little bit and they just stared back at the girls as they left the compartment, still looking a little bit surprised that someone could talk so quickly and so fast.

The rest of the car also held no avail, and luckily Hermione did not insist on going into any more compartments and start talking to the inhabitants. When they met Atasca and Neville back at their compartment again, Neville looked hopeful.

Hermione shook her head. "Sorry, Neville, we didn't find him yet."

He hung his head, and Isabelle suddenly felt extremely sorry for him. She wasn't sure why the toad was so important to him, but it certainly seemed to be. "We will, though," Atasca assured him, seeing his forlorn face.

Neville nodded, and they all settled back into their seats.

"We met Harry Potter," Hermione started conversationally.

Atasca and Neville's eyes widened. "What?" Atasca exclaimed. "Where?"

"Just a few compartments down," Hermione said, pointing in the direction through the wall.

"Anything special?" she asked eagerly.

"No," Isabelle answered. "He looked just like a normal, skinny kid."

They all laughed at that.

"Anything from the trolley, dears?" said a sweet, motherly voice from the aisle. An elderly witch was standing behind a cart laden with sweets that Isabelle had never seen in her life. Neville jumped in immediately to order something called Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans and then something called Pumpkin Pasties.

Hermione shook her head, muttering something about sweets and her parents being dentists, but Atasca gestured to Isabelle. "You getting anything?"

"Um...I'll take some..." She looked over the cart for the most harmless looking thing, but it was difficult when she didn't know what anything was. "Chocolate Frogs."

"Do you collect?" Atasca asked eagerly.

"Erm...no," said Isabelle. Hermione was watching this exchange very curiously, but so far had not asked Isabelle any more questions about where she was from, for which Isabelle was thankful.

"Chocolate Frogs all have the cards of a famous witch or wizard," explained Hermione suddenly, and Isabelle looked at her. She had the tiniest hint of amusement in her eyes. "It is quite famous to collect them here."

Perhaps Hermione wasn't so bad after all. She was explaining for her, after all, probably guessing Isabelle didn't want to draw attention to herself and ask. "Oh, okay," Isabelle nodded, looking at the package she had just bought with a few bronze coins.

Neville was looking at her curiously through his bites of Pumpkin Pasty. "Where did you say you were from?"

"Well I, erm...I won't know a lot about anything here, because well, I'm Palanese."

Neville, too, had the same reaction as Hermione, shock and surprise, but Atasca's face just filled with confusion. "Oh," she answered, apparently thinking hard. "Where is that?"

"Pala is an island," filled in Hermione Granger, seemingly unable to help herself. "In the South Pacific."

Isabelle threw Hermione a look, and the brown-haired girl quailed the slightest bit and didn't elaborate farther. "It's not quite normal for you to be out here, is it?" Neville asked, his eyes wide. But his tone wasn't accusatory.

"Well...we do tend to keep to ourselves, I guess," said Isabelle uncomfortably, though she knew there was more to it than that. "And our magic is quite a bit different from yours. But my mom is from Spain and I moved here to live with her, and she insisted on sending me to Hogwarts."

She couldn't help the bitter tone that filled her voice when she so much as spoke of her mother, but the others either didn't notice, or were very good at hiding it. And to her relief, no one asked any more questions about her mother or where her father was.

"I live with my Gran," Neville said, giving Isabelle a small smile and she smiled back. "We're a pretty old Wizarding family, you could say, which is the only reason I've heard of Pala. Most people haven't, wouldn't you say, Hermione?"

"Oh it's quite common to not have heard of it, yes," answered Hermione. "I just came across it in reading and was so intrigued I got a whole book about the place. Quite fascinating, really." Her tone was a little bit mighty, as if Atasca also should have read about it and feel bad for being in the majority of people that wouldn't know. Or maybe she wanted to explain all about it but Isabelle was glad that she held herself back.

Atasca, as usual, either did not notice or was not bothered. "Well, I feel better then," she smiled.

"I'm going to go ask the conductor how much longer we have until we arrive," said Hermione suddenly, standing up. "I want plenty of time to change into our robes and everything."

The rest of the train ride was spent discussing pets, since the three of them wanted to avoid more talk of classes to increase their nervousness; Atasca had an owl that she showed the other two, Neville of course had Trevor, and Isabelle showed them Chester. Isabelle opened her Chocolate Frog and got the card "Merlin", but even more astounding was the fact that the Chocolate Frog came to life, hopped around the compartment, and finally out the open train window.

Neville had just asked if they played something called "Quidditch" when Hermione finally returned. She sniffed. "Already a fight in Harry Potter's compartment," she relayed to them haughtily. "And everyone is running around the corridor acting like children. We have about ten minutes to get changed."

They did so, pulling their robes over their Muggle clothes, Isabelle nervously smoothing the front of hers for something to do with her hands. Dark was fast approaching, so by the time the train shuddered to a stop, it was twilight.

A rush of fear and excitement, so much stronger than when she had run through the barrier at Platform 9 and 3/4, rushed through her once more. She didn't know what was ahead of her; but it had to better than living with her mother the entire year, and judging from everyone's excitement, Hogwarts seemed like it would be a very fun place to be indeed.


End file.
